JS: Leslie, I'm really not annoyed with you anymore for that time you heartlessly called me a blowhard. It was a piercingly painful assault upon my fragile self-concept, but I've since recovered and totally forgiven you for your brazen cruelty. Consider it forgotten, and if you are ever tempted to feel guilty about it, just ask me and I will tell you that although it was a malicious attack on my character, I've...

LK: But Jen, I never actually called you a blowhard; I just sort of didn't disagree with you when you were obsessing over whether or not you were one. I was just trying to be accommodating. Houseguests are supposed to defer to their hosts.1 And Jen, it was a whole year ago--haven't you forgotten about it yet? I've forgotten about the time you publicly announced to your entire church that I was "painfully shy"...well, I've almost forgotten it.

JS: I did that?

LK: August 17, 2002 at 11:14 AM

JS: You have an amazing memory. . . for things I do to you.

LK: Well, seriously, I tend to remember my own mistakes better than I remember anyone else's, so I remember what I've done to you better than I remember what you've done to me.

JS: Tell you what, you remember your sins against me and I'll remember my sins against you. That way we won't have to remind one another. I'm serious now--that's actually an important window into human psychology, and a good formula for relational success. Did you ever notice that when someone is very honest and contrite about their sin against another person, that other person is more prone to forget it? And conversely, when someone is of a mind to gloss over their own sins, their victims find it very hard to forget? Why do you think that is?

LK: I think it's an indicator of the depth of recognition and repentance that we have for our sins. Glossing over them indicates that we have no real sense of or sorrow for how hurtful they've been, and tells the ones we've hurt that we're likely to do it again. Conversely, when we're frankly sorry for the hurt we've caused, it tells the ones we've hurt that we're safe to trust again. Yet I think we should be careful not to conclude that our forgiveness should be predicated on the other's repentance. Jesus prayed for his executioners, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing" (Luke 23:34, NIV). Christ's forgiveness toward us predates our repentance, and is, in fact, what softens our hearts to the point that we can repent. As we appreciate how He's graciously forgiven all the pain we've caused Him, we're enabled to forgive those who have hurt us, even before they're sorry. Still, I think it's important not to mistakenly equate forgiving with forgetting; I believe that God has set us the example of distinguishing them from one another. Do you see that reflected in Scripture?

JS: I do. According to both Solomon and Jesus, our words and actions will be encountered in "the day of judgment."2 These passages tell us that God keeps a record of these deeds. Now here's the paradox. In Jeremiah and Hebrews, God promises to "remember their sin no more." It's important to note that each time this is stated, it is coupled with "I will put my law within them, and on their heart will I write it."3 What I notice here is that, while forgiveness is quite broad, the promise to forget sin is more conditional. It is promised to a people who are totally self-governed, the law written in their hearts. They will not need to be reminded of their sin, because they will be of a disposition to remember their own sin. This is real maturity, real self-awareness. And it works on a practical level. When our child is melted in repentance, we don't keep heaping shame upon them. We hug them and dry their eyes, and sooth away the sting of remorse. But when a child is in a state of defiance, we must constantly remind them of sin and its penalty. Speaking as a mother, don't you prefer the former scenario?

LK: Sure, though its incidence has fallen off dramatically as we've collided into the preteen years. But in terms of my role as a disciplinarian, I'd like nothing better than to work myself out of a job. The whole purpose of discipline, or discipling, is to teach our kids to become, as you said, self-governing--though we may have to walk through the fire to get there. With regard to the latter scenario, I agree with you that defiant children require external reality checks, though we should remind them of their sin and its penalty redemptively rather than punitively, identifying with them in their weaknesses, recognizing that we are subject to the same or equivalent weaknesses (see Galatians 6:1). Jesus has set us an example in that too, as He who knew no sin "identified Himself with sinners"4 to the point of repenting in our behalf. So I think there are biblical guidelines for redemptively "remembering" sin.

JS: I think you're right. Accountability at its best is redemptive. Equating forgiving sin and forgetting sin sets us up for cheap grace and its infectious, puss-oozing underbelly. A case in point is child abuse. Should we forget about the sin of a pedophile and allow him or her access to children? Should we let them teach church school? Lead the youth club? If we decide to limit their options because of a sin of the past, are we unforgiving just because we are "unforgetting"? What about a battered wife? Should she forget her husband's frequent beatings because he apologizes the next morning, or should she take precautions for the future? What if he's a church leader? Should she let the church know he's unfit for the position? Are we failing to act the part of Christians if we remember these sins, or are we just exercising a little good sense?

LK: Of course there's a vast difference between dealing with childish defiance and interpersonal conflict, and dealing with a pedophile or a wife batterer. A flaccid, sentimentalized Christianity lumps them all together, in terms of admonishing us to forgive and to refrain from judging. Yet the church must cultivate the discernment to recognize real victimization and the moral fortitude to deal with it accordingly. We need to develop a balanced conceptualization of justice and mercy--Jesus doesn't only identify with "sinners," but with those they've sinned against. The same God who "has not dealt with us according to our sins, nor punished us according to our iniquities," also "executes justice for the oppressed," and so should we (Psalms 103:10, 146:7, NKJV). Forgiving oppressors doesn't negate the need to advocate for their past and potential victims, and to apply appropriate consequences, even legal ones, when necessary. Even necessarily harsh consequences can be applied redemptively, and can be received as such by those who are truly repentant.

JS: I really appreciate what you're saying. You're so fair-minded and compassionate! If I ever do something really bad, I hope I have someone like you administering "redemptive justice." Did you have anything else to say about it?

LK: Nope, that's it. But then what can you expect from a painfully shy person like me? I never have much to say. Maybe you have something to add, seeing that you're a...oops, I just remembered that I'm supposed to forget about that--or maybe I forgot that I'm supposed to remember never to say it again.

JS: Les, I'm shocked that you would even allude to that after everything we've just talked about.

LK: You know, Jen, we really have to stop arguing like this, or we'll have to change our mission statement to "Dedicated to the proposition that two seriously menopausal women are better than one, as long as they're not writing the same column." But come to think of it, I do have one more thing to say.

JS: Say on, oh painfully verbose one.

LK: I want to thank everyone for their prayers in behalf of my husband, who has come through his ordeal battered, but relatively intact--God is good. And I want to thank you for caring enough to ask them to pray for him. You're my bud, Jen.
___________________________________-

1. Leslie and her family were visiting Jennifer at the time the famed "blowhard" and "painfully shy" incidents occurred, which made for some interesting dynamics.

2. "For God shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it be evil" (Ecclesiastes 12:14). "Every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give an account thereof in the day of judgment" (Matthew 12:36).

3. This is found in Jeremiah 31:33, 34. It is quoted in Hebrews 8:10, 11 and Hebrews 10:16, 17.

4. Ellen G. White, The Desire of Ages, p. 111.